


summon all the courage you require

by anakinno



Series: Enjoying AoS Season 7 with as Much Angst as Possible [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 7x09, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Conversations, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Late Night Conversations, Life Model Decoys, Speculation, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, but what else is new, confirmed, coulson is daisy's dad, daisy blaming herself for everything, not ship-centric, shatterpoint theory, spec fic, spoilers for 7x09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25533442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anakinno/pseuds/anakinno
Summary: "No one else can understand that pain," Coulson says gently, but his gaze is intent on her face. "It's just you. And me. We're in this together.""For how much longer?" Daisy challenges, voice ragged with grief, and for once Coulson doesn't have an answer.In which Daisy and Coulson have another potentially soul-crushing conversation once they're free from the time loop, and everything hurts.
Relationships: Phil Coulson & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson/Melinda May, Skye | Daisy Johnson/Daniel Sousa
Series: Enjoying AoS Season 7 with as Much Angst as Possible [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773439
Comments: 22
Kudos: 114





	summon all the courage you require

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry in advance. This is me getting over Enoch's death the only way I know how: mega angst.
> 
> Title from _Hamilton_ because I'm reliving my freshman year phase. Send help.

Repairing the _Zephyr_ after their little jaunt into the space-time-vortex (Deke had tried to explain the science to Daisy earlier, but she'd lost track after the word _continuum)_ is grueling work. The entire team is exhausted—especially Daisy. It turns out that reliving the same thirty minutes over and over again isn't exactly _fun,_ and she longs to throw herself into her bunk and crash out for the first time in hours. Unfortunately, there's work to be done, so she sucks it up and gets moving.

Everyone is visibly upset as Jemma directs the team around the engine room. Deke follows at her heels like an adoring puppy, repeating every order she calls out, but louder. When he isn't acting as Simmons' human megaphone, he stares down at his hands as if he can't quite believe the events of the past few hours. By Deke's side, Mack shakes as he tightens a bolt on the powered-down time drive. The wrench slips from his sweaty hands and falls to the floor with a _clang._

Yo-Yo flinches at the sound, almost jumping out of her skin. Her eyes are red, like she's been crying, and Daisy turns her gaze away from the two of them out of respect. Evidently, the couple is going through some of their own issues.

Even May—steady, emotionless, rock-in-a-raging-sea May—is clearly affected. Daisy sees the way she grabs hold of Coulson's hands like he's the only thing that can ground her. May breathes in deep, eyes fluttering shut as Coulson steadies her and whispers soft, soothing words of comfort into her ear. It's the most natural thing in the world to Daisy. These two have _history—_ they've suffered through so much, and this is the least they deserve: being together at last. They're practically her parents.

And finally... Daniel Sousa. In the midst of the chaos, he helps Mack and Yo-Yo secure all the broken pieces of the time drive. As if sensing Daisy's gaze on him, he glances up, meeting her eyes boldly. Heat sparks between them like electricity, and Daisy can't help her flinch. Her feelings for Sousa are _scary_ —new, strange, terrifying, chokingly real. So she turns away from him forcibly, ignoring the heat of his gaze on the back of her neck as she continues with her work.

 _He doesn't remember the kiss,_ she thinks, and she hates herself even more for wishing that he did.

Enoch's presence is sorely missed; Daisy can feel the hole where he would usually be, watching Simmons like a hawk and providing unneeded comic relief. _I don't like watching you die,_ Coulson had told her, his voice choked up with more emotion than she'd heard from him in a long time. _I don't like watching any of you die. Especially over and over._

Except now Enoch is _dead_. And it's her fault. If Daisy had been quicker with the time loops—if she'd realized that it had been _Enoch_ trying to protect Jemma's implant all along, staying true to his programming—maybe they could have figured out another way.

Maybe Daisy and Coulson being the only ones to retain their memories of the time loop is the universe's idea of a sick joke. It's always been her and Coulson, ever since he'd pulled open the door of her ridiculous van all those years ago. When Ward had pulled the hood off her head in that stupid interrogation room, she'd taken one look at Agent Philip J. Coulson and thought, _don't you dare get attached._

That day in the alley had been a turning point, if not _the_ turning point, of her life. Coulson had taken one look at her and decided that he would never let her go, no matter how hard Daisy tried to push him away. And damn, had she tried.

 _"It's called the Shatterpoint Theory,"_ Deke had told her earlier in the midst of his time travel rant, gesturing wildly with his hands. His words came so fast that he almost stumbled over them, face flushed with passion and the intense joy of sharing his weird scientific theories with Daisy. At the time, she'd considered his passion annoying, but now she thinks it'd been rather sweet. _"It means that, uh, that there are certain... events, say, where the timelines—or alternate universes—diverge."_

 _"'Alternate universes'?"_ she'd repeated, incredulous. _"We're stuck on time travel and you're trying to prove the_ multiverse _theory?"_

 _"Just hear me out,"_ he'd snapped, and she shut her mouth with a _click. "Basically, shatterpoints—or the events where timelines differ—occur every so often, when you make a decision that could have multiple outcomes. Technically, the theory says that in each suppositional universe, the different choices could have consequences that would completely change the timeline. Like a domino effect."_

Daisy had scoffed despite herself. _"So you're saying that one choice—like eating Pumpkin Spice Cheerios for breakfast instead of plain Cheerios—could change the world?"_

 _"Yeah,"_ Deke had said eagerly. _"Maybe not a choice that small, but yes, it could. Something bigger could seriously change the outcome of events in this universe. In another universe, however, a different decision would end up enacting change in other ways. You see?"_

 _"I guess,"_ Daisy said, even though she didn't.

Some of her confusion must have shown on her face, because Deke added, _"Like in_ Star Wars. _You know that part during the prequels when the Jedi are about to kill Palpatine and Darth Vader is about to fall to the Dark Side?"_

 _"Yeah."_ Her voice was cautious, unsure of this weird new change in topic.

 _"That's a shatterpoint."_ Deke sounded victorious. _"Any of the outcomes of that battle would have completely changed the next twenty years of the Galaxy. If Palpatine had died—if Order 66 hadn't been enacted—if Mace Windu had survived—if Anakin didn't fall to the Dark Side—"_

 _"I get it, I get it,"_ Daisy had said hastily, understanding blooming in her chest. _"You don't need to geek out about it."_

Deke had grinned, and _oh—_ she feels a tug in her gut, now, at the look on his face. At the thought of the adorable, kicked puppy look he's inevitably going to give her when she tells him about Sousa. _God—poor Deke._

But that day in the alley, when she'd met Phil Coulson and Melinda May for the first time? She's sure that that day had been a shatterpoint in her life, if Deke's crazy conspiracy theorist science is to be believed.

These thoughts—and more—are the ones racing through her brain when Jemma finally declares the _Zephyr_ in working order. Daisy stares at her, fist clenching around the metal tool in her hand.

"Go and get some rest," Jemma tells her. She looks Daisy up and down pointedly with a raised eyebrow. "You look exhausted."

"But the quinjet still needs work," Daisy automatically protests. She's not willing to let anyone else shoulder the majority of the work; not if she can help it. "I can't—"

"Go. To. Bed," Simmons says, cutting her off, with a maniacal glint in her eye. Daisy does not like the look of Jemma's evil expression, so she says her goodnights and stumbles towards the bunk space on autopilot, throwing herself into the empty bed with gusto. It's been weeks since she's actually spent a night in here—what with the Chronicom invasion and the whole Nathaniel-Malick-Inhuman thing, Daisy has spent most of her time in the lab's healing chamber.

The bunk space isn't _bad._ Not exactly. It's still decorated with a few of her personal effects—a couple Polaroids of Daisy and Jemma together, Daisy's original SHIELD badge from way back when, the medal of valor that SHIELD had given her in honor of Lincoln's sacrifice. That last one makes her eyes sting when she looks at it, so Daisy quickly tucks it under the bed clothes before swinging her legs up onto the bunk. She is far too aware of the _hum_ of recycled air as she closes her eyes and shifts on the hard surface. The metal creaks underneath her, groaning loudly in the quiet room, before Daisy finally settles down.

Unfortunately, sleep evades her. She lies there, awake, for what feels like hours. Daisy's thoughts race by in a hurried mix of frantic ideas that leave her tossing and turning. She's too hot, then too cold, then too hot again, kicking the blankets off with a frustrated sigh. Her emotions are razor-sharp still, and grief and rage rise up within her whenever she allows herself to dwell on what she's feeling.

Fuck. _Fuck._ The reality of the last twenty-four hours—the last thirty-six hours, actually _—_ hits her like a punch to the stomach, and she gasps out. Her eyes fly open at the thought of Enoch on his deathbed and the soul-searching questions he'd asked Daisy and Coulson. The tears in his eyes—the shake in his voice—the way he'd said Fitz's name, almost like a tender caress—

Daisy sits up so fast that she almost whacks her head against the ceiling. Heart racing, cheeks flushed, she swings her legs over to the side of the bunk and stands up, making sure not to wake the others in the bunks beside her. She wobbles a little once she's on her feet, but she quickly steadies herself against the wall of the _Zephyr_ and moves back through the hallway as if in a trance.

The ship is quiet at this hour as she pads softly down the corridor. Evidently, the rest of the team is taking advantage of the opportunity to sleep for more than thirty minutes at a time. Despite the socks she's wearing, her footsteps echo through the halls, giving the _Zephyr_ an eerie sense of calm.

As Daisy passes the lab, she spots Simmons working at the central table—hunched over a new project. Daisy can't quite tell what it is, but it looks important and technological and altogether far too complicated for simple Field Agent Daisy Johnson to understand. Jemma's eyes are red, most likely from both grief and exhaustion, and she's muttering to herself frantically.

Maybe it's a shitty move on Daisy's part—after all, Jemma is her best friend and she's definitely not taking Enoch's death well—but Daisy doesn't immediately open the door to the lab. She's feeling awful enough herself; she doesn't think she could manage to console Jemma, who was arguably much closer to Enoch than Daisy had even been. Sue her.

Daisy makes a mental note to take Jemma out for a cup of tea sometime soon, when this all blows over, as she stares at the other woman. Jemma continues not to notice Daisy's presence. After another moment of hesitation, Daisy starts forward to continue down the hallway. She leaves Jemma to her gadgets and gizmos and instead turns in the direction of the _Zephyr's_ cockpit.

Coulson is waiting for her when she slips inside the front compartment, sitting in the copilot's chair and staring out at the blackness of space all around them. She's not surprised to find him here. His face is cast in a soft glow by the stars in the distance, expression unreadable. Daisy seizes the opportunity to take the pilot's seat, and she lowers herself into the chair slowly as she marvels at the beauty of space all around them.

After the team's miraculous escape from the time vortex, the _Zephyr_ had been spit out into space several thousand light-years away from Earth. Luckily, Simmons had remembered to design this new version of the ship with all the capabilities they need for space travel. It's going to take them several days to make it back to Earth—and to find out what decade they've been thrown into. In the meantime, Daisy sits back and allows herself to enjoy the scenery of space that lays before them.

Silence hangs in the air between them for a minute or two before Coulson breaks it. "Can't sleep?"

Daisy shakes her head, not trusting herself to speak. 

"I would say _me neither,_ but, you know..." He trails off and motions to his body, looking vaguely apologetic. "LMD. Sleep isn't really a huge thing."

"You didn't ask Jemma to power you off again?" Daisy asks, genuinely curious.

Coulson winces. "It's not the most pleasant experience," he defends, but not without humor in his voice. "Seeing as I spent the beginning of every time loop powered off, I don't think that's an occurence I particularly want to repeat."

Oh. Right. _It's probably the LMD equivalent of having nightmares,_ Daisy thinks, but she doesn't voice that thought aloud. "Huh," she says instead, noncommittal. She lets herself study him—the curves of his face, the wrinkles lining his forehead, the small smile on his lips—and commits the image to memory.

"But I digress." Coulson watches her carefully with that small, knowing smile. "Have you spoken to Sousa yet?"

"What—how did you—" Daisy splutters, feeling her cheeks go red. She tries to console herself with the thought that in the low light of space, he probably can't see her blush, but it doesn't help. "Daniel—Sousa and I—"

"Don't worry," he says, turning his gaze to look back out of the viewport again—probably to hide the grin on his face. _Asshole_. "I think I'm the only one who noticed. Did—did something happen during the time loop?"

Daisy takes a moment to mentally mull over the possible consequences of telling Coulson _everything_ — _is this one of those fucking shatterpoints? Thanks a lot, Deke._ Now Daisy is going to second-guess every decision she makes. Joy oh joy.

"I—He's steady," she says, after a moment, sounding thoughtful. "Dependable. The amount of times I wanted him to do something during the time loop and he just did what I told him, no questions asked—" She inhales sharply, rearranging her thoughts into something a bit less deathly dramatic and grim. "He said... he said he knew people like me. He said that I would keep throwing myself into a wall, into the next problem, with no thought for my own self-preservation. And he... he said that he would be there. To pick me up." Her cheeks flush, and she bites out the next part all in one breath. "And, also— _I-might-have-kissed-him-during-one-of-the-loops-that-he-doesn't-remember_."

At those words, Coulson whips his head around to stare at her incredulously. Thankfully, his voice is steady when he says, "So I'm guessing Deke is out of the picture."

Daisy flushes even harder, if possible. "I—I haven't told him yet. I was planning to. Maybe later, when he wakes up." Her words sound feeble to her own ears. _Excuses, excuses, excuses._

Coulson just sighs, partly with chagrin, and he's never felt more like her father than in this exact moment. "Don't string him along," he tells Daisy earnestly. "He shouldn't react too badly, all things considered. But if that means I have to give _Daniel Sousa_ , hero of SHIELD, the shovel talk now—"

"No," Daisy exclaims fervently, but she's _laughing_ now, goddamnit. Coulson follows suit, chuckling despite himself. "No, don't you dare!"

After a minute, their laughter dies out and Daisy breathes in deeply. The cool air is sobering.

"Did you mean what you said?" she asks suddenly.

The question clearly catches Coulson off guard; he furrows his brow in typical mystical-Phil-Coulson, the-man-the-myth-the-legend fashion. "You'll have to be a bit more specific."

"To Enoch. About not dying alone," she clarifies, and she watches as his expression clouds over with pain. Regret spikes through her, hot and heavy. Fuck, she's put her foot in her mouth this time. "Coulson—"

"Yes," he says simply, staring out at the stars again. She watches his hands clench where he has them clasped in his lap. "I did. Enoch did not die alone. He was surrounded by friends."

Daisy inhales sharply, feeling her eyes prick with tears again. "It's not _fair,"_ she hisses out, and she's not quite sure whether she's referring to Enoch's death or something else entirely. "The entire time loop—watching them die, over and over again—and _Enoch_ paid the price—" She clenches her fists around the armrests of the chair. "And everyone walks around like it was _nothing._ LIke the loop didn't even exist."

"You're right. No one else can understand that pain," Coulson says gently, but his gaze is intent on her face. "It's just you. And me. We're in this together."

"For how much longer?" Daisy challenges, voice ragged with grief, and for once Coulson doesn't have an answer. "You keep _dying_ , Coulson. You keep on leaving, and every time we think it's the last—every time I think I'm finally losing my fucking father figure—you just waltz back in!" She's crying now, Daisy registers faintly; hot tears drip onto her combat vest. "And—and it's clear that you don't want to be an LMD, okay? You want to be deactivated. So I'm going to lose you again, for the _third_ time, and you expect me to be fine with that?!"

With that, she finally bursts into tears. The sound is ugly, wretched, as if the sobs are being torn from her throat. 

Phil rises from his chair, unsteady, and comes over to throw his arms around Daisy in a tight hug after he pulls her to her feet. "Oh, _Daisy,"_ he says into her ear, sounding regretful and hurt and upset. "I never meant to hurt you. I never—Christ, I never thought we would end up _here._ Time traveling, huh? After aliens and simulations and American politics? The last few years have been a fever dream. But ever since I met you in that alleyway, when we pulled back the door to your van..." He chuckles lightly at the memory. "You're practically my daughter. And it's never been easy for me to say that.

"Daisy, I never wanted to be brought back. Not as an LMD. But I swear to you—" He puts one of his hands over Daisy's heart, on the left side of her chest. "I will always be _here_. Even when I'm long gone, dismantled for good, you will still have me in your heart."

Daisy sniffs, wiping her eyes on her shirt. "What type of cheesy Disney bullshit is that?"

He shoots her a look that clearly says _language._ "It's reliable Disney bullshit," Coulson says instead. "Listen. You remember what I wrote to you? A few years ago?"

Her breath catches at the thought. I _love you._ He'd written those three words in Daisy's farewell letter, before the first time Coulson had died. The first time she'd read it, the tears had come hot and fast and Daisy had retreated to the safety of her room in the Lighthouse. She practically knows the letter by heart now—for a year, she'd kept it tucked in her inside pocket, closest to her heart—but that one phrase always trips her up. _I love you._

"I love you," she says out loud, voice soft.

"Yeah," he says, voice cracking a little on the word. "And it's still true."

The sentiment warms her ridiculously from the inside. Maybe, just maybe, things will be okay. As long as she has Coulson at her side—and in her heart, however cheesy it may be—Daisy is capable of taking on anything.

Maybe even a friendzoned Deke Shaw.

**Author's Note:**

> I made myself cry while writing, can I get an F in chat please—
> 
> The Shatterpoint Theory that Daisy mentions is actually a _Star Wars_ thing (gotta love Mace Windu) and it's super interesting. I encourage you to look it up. Also, while I was writing this, I accidentally hit Command W and closed the tab and was forced to rewrite over half of it, so. Please enjoy my suffering. 
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](https://anakinnope.tumblr.com/).


End file.
